Life Gets In The Way
by Wanna Be Abby
Summary: Why is it, that when you finally screw up the courage to ask someone out, life decides to get in the way? My first LoM fic  somewhere around S1.  Rated T just to be safe and with Gene's language it's best to be so!
1. Chapter 1

Sam stood before the locker room door and fidgeted.

First he straightened his shirt, then his jacket.

He polished his shoes on the back of his trousers, despite the fact he knew he'd spent nearly an hour cleaning and polishing them the night before.

He straightened his hair, using the reflection in the glass of a picture frame, Her Majesty staring back at him.

'Right,' he told himself, and reached to push the door before him open.

And then had a sudden panic and checked his breath - again, despite the three brushings his teeth had had that morning and two pieces of chewing gum since he got into work.

Satisfied he now past muster - at least by 1973 standards, Sam stepped up to the mark.

His hand made contact with the door and - a voice erupted from further down the long, dark, concrete corridor.

'TYLER!! Get your smug backside in gear NOW!'

Sam rolled his eyes at the not so genteel tones of DCI Gene Hunt resonated around him.

'Tyler! Where the bloody hell are you?!'

Gene bellowed again and burst out of the CID doors.

He strode towards his hapless DI, a cloud of nicotine coloured smoke behind him, and half smoked cigarette in his right hand.

'Guv.' Sam turned and walked towards him.

'Stop lurking outside the changing rooms, you perv. Cartwright's already out on this call - I sent her out with Ray and Chris already.'

Gene grimiced at the younger man.

'Oh. Right.' Sam felt himself colour at the insinuation, and cursed his immediate thought, the one that wanted to start quoting Harrassment policy at Gene.

It would do no good, as he well knew.

The proliferation of girly magazines, calenders and other, what Sam termed, 'material', that routinely littered CID territory had initially thrown him on his arrival in 1973.

In truth, it still troubled him, as did the complete lack of any understanding of 'Equal Opportunities' within the department.

Dragging his mind back to the vision in a brown suit and whisky fumes that passed for his boss in CID, Sam held out his hands with a query on his lips.

'Ahead to what?'

'Eh?' Gene was fumbling for his lighter.

'You sent Ray, Chris and Annie ahead on what call?'

'Oh, that. Some nutter with a shooter. Nothing to worry about.'

Sam rolled his eyes again, and dragged a hand through his hair.

'Guv, you can't just keep wading in when weapons are involved! There are procedures to be followed!'

'And you know what you can do with those! C'mon Tyler, lets go and bring this lowlife down! No one walks around my city threatening the general public without my authority!'

And he stormed off, coat tails flying behind him.

Sam followed in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

Life Gets In The Way

'God, I hate Tuesdays,' Ray moaned as he lit up another cigarette.

'I dunno,' Chris replied, around the last of his bacon sandwich from the canteen,'It's not that bad.'

'Oh yeah? Whys that then, clever clogs?' Ray asked the younger man.

Chris paused to wipe a grease mark of his comic, frowning as he managed to smear the print on his shirt cuff.

'I dunno, well, it's not Monday again, is it?'

'Well spotted, Mastermind.' Ray tipped ash on the office floor, 'Ey up, watch out.'

Ray leaned back even further in his office chair, put his feet up on his desk and adopted a surly look.

Chris broke off from that week's riveting adventures of Korky the Cat to find DI Sam Tyler standing between his and Ray's desks.

'Boss!' Chris instantly looked guilty and grabbed a buff folder to make it at least look like he was attempting to work.

'Chris,' Sam leaned over the desk of the youngest member of CID and tapped the folder, 'Have you written up that interview yet?'

Chirs goggled at his DI as he desperately tried to remember whether he had or not, 'Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrr, not sure. Boss.'

Sam closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his chest.

Chris had a rare moment of clarity and grinned at it.

'Oh yeah! The stolen bin van thing!'

Sam looked up and tried to smile encouragingly.

'Yes, Chris. The alledgedly stolen waste collection vehicle. Well done. That interview transcript. Have you typed up our interview with the Council Yard Supervisor?'

'Oh. No. Well, not that I didn't write it all down, boss, but y'know, my typewriter ribbon went bust. So, not yet.'

'Oooooh for a decent laptop,' Sam murmured under his breath, 'Chris - have you gone and got another ribbon then?'

'No need! I went to ask one of the plonks..'

'WPCs, Chris! They are police officers, same as you!' Sam gave him a stern look.

'Yeah, right, sorry boss. Well I went to ask one of the WPCs, like, and one of them is doing it for me.'

'Hey! Get in there my son!' Ray cheered, through his cigarette, and with a hand gesture to match the letchorous look on his face.

Chris burned bright red with embarressment.

For all his bravado, he hadn't actually really had a proper girlfriend yet, and often felt out of depth amongst the stories his male colleagues delighted in telling about the women they had known. Chris didn't think his short experiences of snogging a girl in the cinema and another one at a bus stop on a wet Sunday afternoon would impress them much.

He did know the only one not to join in with the taunting of the girls about or patronizing of women who they encountered in an investigation was DI Tyler.

Lately Chris had started to watch Sam around women, trying to observe what he did.

Women liked Sam, which was just odd, Chris decided.

Sam did weird things like opening doors for the WPCs and thanking the women who worked in the canteen. Chris had only just realised this gave Sam certain privileges - the WPCs would mostly giggle when Sam was about and openly flirted with him, something Chris aspired to but had yet to happen, and the women in the canteen saved Sam special portions and made him custard especially.

He watched his DI glare at Ray and knock his feet of the desk.

'Sgt Carling, I suggest you go and find something more productive to do, maybe something to do with the growing piles of files in your in tray.'

'I'm on a break.' Ray blew smoke at Sam's face.

Sam coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to clear the air.

'Actually, Ray, that wasn't so much of a request as an order.' Sam leaned forward on Ray's desk, picking up files and knocking the cigarette from the DS's mouth, 'Sort these out or..'

'Or what?' Ray leaned forward so the two men were practically nose to nose.

CID was silent, everybody waiting to see who would throw the first punch.

It was Ray.

He walked round his desk and pulled his right arm back, balling his fist, and slitting his eyes at Sam.

Sam leant back slightly.

'Ray, you really don't want to start this.'

'Yeah, I think I do.'

And so saying, Ray released his arm, directing a punch at Sam's face.

It never touched him.

Sam dodged the punch and grabbed Ray's hand and arm, twisting it round so Ray ended up on his knees in a half-nelson, whilst Sam leaned over him.

Chris saw Sam lean over to Ray's ear and say something to him.   
Ray nodded, though his face looked like thunder.

Sam released Ray, and moved away.

Ray stood up, brushed himself down and grabbed a file from his desk.

He shrugged into his coat and glaring at anyone who looked like they might say something, burst out of the CID squad room and down the corridor.

Chatter returned to the room and Chris saw Sam exhale.

The door squeaked open and Annie walked in holding some paperwork. She walked over to Chris, and handed him the ubiquitous buff folder, stamped with the North West District HQ crest.

'Hi Annie,' Chris greeted her.

'Hi Chris - there's your transcript.'

Chris nodded and bent down to have a look, then paused. DI Tyler would have said something now, he thought, so he looked up, smiled at Annie and said, 'Thanks very much, I owe you one.'

Annie looked surprised and gave him a half smile, 'That's alright, I'll chalk it up with the rest.'

Chris smiled back at her.

But Annie was looking at Sam now with a different smile on her face.

Sam was back at his desk, with his back to Annie, and she walked over and perched over to sit on the desk.

Chris saw Sam start to find her sitting there and then saw him smile broadly back at Annie.

The background noise made it impossible for Chris to hear what they were saying to each other, but whatever it was, they were both still smiling and Annie started to giggle.

They both got up and Chris hurried to look like he was engrossed in the file Annie had bought him.

'Chris?' Sam was standing in front of his desk again, shrugging on his jacket, 'I'm off to lunch now, see you later.'

'Oh, okay boss.' Chris watched at Sam and Annie walked to the door, still talking and smiling at each other.

Only for Gene Hunt to burst through, stopping Sam dead in his tracks.

'Sorry love,' Hunt boomed across the room at Annie, 'You're gonna have to wait for Sammy boy to wine and dine you in the canteen, we've got a shout! Chris! Get Ray! Tyler! Put the plonk down and follow me!'

And having declaimed his orders, Gene spun on his slip on heel and barrelled back down the corridor.

Chris hurried past Sam and Annie in the doorway. Both looked less than happy at the interruption.

Chris heard Sam say something like, 'Later then?' and Annie nod, but no more as he hurried off to the place he knew Ray liked to hang out when life was getting to him.  
What was it with DI Tyler and Annie Cartwright? Chris mused as he trotted off round the corridors and into the gloom of the police station.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all the kind reviews to this my first LoM fic. I know I haven't regularly updated this and some of you have set alerts for this fic in particular and are cursing my name wondering what the devil I'm up to! However, be calm - I have not been idle! Oh no! My life may be empty of romance and excitement of the cute intelligent guy kind, but in my head I've sang with Hugh Jackman, I've paddled in the sea with McGee, I've wittily flirted with Sam Tyler, I've shared a hot beverage with Benton Fraser, I've danced round the TARDIS with the 9th Dr not to mention had a quick snog with the 10th Dr... Who needs real life? And, by the way, have you seen those little purple pills of mine recently?

To whit: Chapter 3 of LoM fic 'Life Gets In The Way' (subtitled 'And Ain't That The Truth...')!

Chapter 3

The rain poured down, hammering against the thin windows of North West CID HQ.

The building gently hummed with activity that befitted the afternoon, officers coming in the front door shaking the rain from their hats, WPC's wearily tapping away at typewriters, and above it all, just audible above the rain, came the sound of various radio stations.

Annie Cartwright looked in the mirror and sighed.

How was it, she thought, when you finally manage to get your hair to do the very thing you've always wanted it to do, it rains and you end up looking like a drowned rat?

'Yuck,' she told her reflection, 'You've got 'hat hair'...' and so doing, she started to root in her issue bag for a brush to try and resurrect her bangs.

The door creaked open and Phyllis snuck in the door.

'Hiya!' Annie greeted the older woman who clutched her heart dramatically.

'Annie luv!' Phyllis said, 'You gave me such a fright!'

'Oh, sorry. You alright?' Annie went over to her colleague.

'Yeah, I'm okay. Bloody awful weather out there, int it?' And so saying, Phyllis lit up another cigarette.

Annie took a step back from the smoke eminating from the non-filtered tip.

'Yeah, it's ruined my hair too.' she turned back to the mirror and did her utmost to make the best of a bad job. 'There. That'll have to do.'

'You look lovely, Annie, you always do.'

Annie turned in surprise to the Phyllis.

'Aw, thanks Phyllis! That's a really nice thing to say.'

Phyllis coughed as a stray piece of tobacco caught her throat.

'Hey, I'm not the only one to notice y'know?' and she winked very badly at Annie, who opened her eyes up wider and flushed a little redder.

'Ey, don't give me the wide eyed innocent look, young lady, you know full well who I mean.'

Annie stalled for time.

'No, no I've no idea who you mean. Chris Skelton is a nice bloke, but we're just mates.'

'Not that pup!'

'Besides he's spending far too much time with Ray Carling...'

'Ignorant sod!' Phyllis then used language unbecoming to, if not a lady, then definitely a member of Her Majesty's Constabulary.

'Phyllis!'

'Well, he is. Comes in here like some sorta king o' the jungle, throwing his weight about like he owns the bloody place! Just 'cause he was in with DCI Hunt...'

'What do you mean 'was in'?'

'Oooo luv, you didn't see the looks he was giving your young man the other day. Defective,'

'Don't you mean Detective?' Annie corrected her, trying to ignore her friend's illusion to DI Sam Tyler.

Or at least, she fervently hoped, thats who Phyllis meant by 'your young man'.

'I know what I mean,' muttered Phyllis darkly, 'Detective Sgt Raymond Carling's nose is firmly outta joint!'

'Why?'

'He's been replaced, luv. Not only has he been given the heave-ho by 'that woman' from the Co-op's Soft Furnishings department..'

'Was he seeing her?!' Annie was aghast.

'Seeing her? From what I hear he wasn't seeing any more than any other man in a ten mile radius has done before! She's no better than she ought to be!'

Phyllis fumed and gesticulated wildly with the stub of her cigarette.

Annie started to giggle at the other woman's outrage.

'Eh, you know what I mean!'

'I know! Phyllis?'

'Yes luv?'

'Do you think he got his divvy?' Annie held herself together long enough before she started to have to hang on to the sinks to remain upright.

Phyllis started a hacking laugh that ended up in a hacking cough.

The door banged open and Gene Hunt stood there in his shirtsleeves.

'Alright girls, playtime's over.' He announced around his own non-filter tipped Benson & Hedges. 'Phyllis - you'll snap your knicker elastic you keep laughing like that!'

'Cheek!'

'Sorry sir.' Annie wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and stood up, straightening her skirt as she did.

'Yeah, alright. C'mon you two. Straighten your lipstick up and get back out here. Phyllis, Ray and Chris need your expertise with the ol' filing on front desk.'

'Comin', comin'' Phyllis stubbed out the remainder of her cigarette and tried to squeeze past Gene. As she eventually managed to do so, he leant forward and slapped the woman firmly and loudly on the backside.

Phyllis spun round and gave DCI Gene 'Genie' Hunt the fabled look that would have not only slayed but buried other men at least six foot deep where they had previously stood.

He just grinned and winked at her.

'C'mon Cartwright, you're wanted.'

'Sir?'

'DI Tyler has persuaded me he's after your brains, not your knickers, so you're now officially,' he paused, waving his cigarette in circles in the air as he sought for the word he wanted,' oh yeah, you're 'seconded' to help him out with one of his cases.'

Gene stood back, holding the door open for Annie to pass quickly past.

'He's in 'Lost and Found', luv' he shouted at her as Annie walked briskly down the corridor towards CID.

Annie turned the corridor, a huge smile on her face.

Sam! Sam had asked for her! She paused before the door of 'Lost and Found' and took a deep breath.

She knocked, and a familiar voice called out, 'Come on in!', so she did.

Sam was sitting at the only table in the room, surrounded by stolen bikes, and the other detritus gathered by the police station in its constant pursuit of justice.

Or in Gene's case, a decent bottle of whisky he wouldn't have to pay for.

Sam looked up and Annie couldn't ignore the smile that spread across his face when he saw who it was.

He jumped up and held the only other decent chair for her, so she was sat right next to him.

'How are you today?' he asked, looking directly at her.

Annie felt herself blush and cursed the rain for ruining her hair.

'Oh, you know, fine thanks. Got a bit wet doing an errand earlier.'

'Yeah, I saw you running back just after lunch...'

'Oh!' Annie stared at him. He saw her? What must he think? Her dad always said she ran like she was wearing concrete boots! And she must have looked a disaster! She looked up, embarrassed, to find Sam shuffling paper out of a file and trying not to look at her.

Was it the lighting in here, or was he a bit, well, red of face too?

'Anyway,' he was saying to her, ' I'd really like your help on this case.'

'My help?'

'Your opinion. Your degree in psychology could really help me out here,' and he proceeded to explain the basis of the case he was dealing with.

Annie sat and listened. At some point Phyllis came in with tea and some biscuits she'd scrounged from the canteen for them, but neither Sam nor Annie noticed her.

They were in the warm and dry on a cold, soggy, miserable Manchester afternoon.

And they were together. Working, but together.

If either of them felt the pressure of the other's knee against their own, or eye contact that lingered perhaps just a little too long, or the closeness at which they sat with each other, they were too engrossed, and too happy, to notice.

Okay, thought Annie, maybe it's not a date, but maybe?

Okay, thought Sam, so it's not a date, but perhaps?


	4. Chapter 4

As the Cortina sped round the corner, Sam gripped the handle above the passenger window and closed his eyes.

'Outta the way! Blind prat!' Gene cursed as they raced through the streets of the city.

'Blimey, that was a close one, Guv!' Chris leant forward from the back seat.

'Nah, you missed him by a mile...' Ray's laconic tone broke off as he lit up.

Sam took another deep breath, and made himself relax. He longed for a proper seat belt, and the introduction of speed cameras - at least 15 years off by his reckoning.

'Guv, you ever think it might be an idea to slow down a bit?' he ventured.

'Oh shut up you pansy!' Gene dismissed his DI, 'Bit o' speed never hurt anyone.'

'And what about the innocent pedestrians?!'

'Well they should be watching out for the superior driver shouldn't they?' Gene grinned, 'Who were the bloody roads built for anyway?'

'Right on Guv!' cheered Chris from the back.

'Dunno why you're agreeing,' croaked Ray, 'You don't even have a car!'

'Yet.' Chris said, crossing his arms and settling back in the mustard colour velour.

'Guv, I really don't see why you find it necessary to drive at this speed.' Sam said, unable to stop himself.

'Don't start, Tyler..' Gene growled as he handbraked turned into the last remaining space outside North West Police HQ.

'Nice one, guv.' Chris nodded in appreciation as he climbed out of the back of the car.

Sam sat, white knuckles gripping the dashboard, his left eye screwed shut tight.

'Dear God..' he whispered through clenched teeth.

'Pansy' Ray hissed in his ear and levered himself across the back seat and out of the vehicle.

Sam let go of the leatherette interior and started to breath again.

As he did so, the car radio crackled into life.

'Sam?' a voice said softly, a voice he instantly recognised as his mother.

'Mum?'

'Sam, darling, it's me. I'm sorry I wasn't here over the weekend, but your Nan wasn't well.'

'Nan? What's the matter with Nan?' Sam had a flashback to his maternal grandmother, a tiny bird of a lady who had helped raise him when his perfidious father had run out on him and his mum.

'Sam, she's a very old lady now, and you know how her heart is. She's in the hospital now, and the doctors say she hasn't got long...'

Sam pressed his open hand to his mouth.

'Oh god, Nana..' he whispered, remembering the elderly lady who had knitted him sweaters all the way through school, and then his university scarf when he first left home, how she always patted his hand when they sat and talked, about the pervading hint of lavender surrounding her when she hugged him.

'She keeps asking about you, Sam. You remember how she used to read my tea leaves?'

'Yeah, I remember.' Sam leaned closer to the radio.

'We used to laugh didn't we, you and me. Nana and her premonitions.'

'Mum, what are you trying to tell me?'

'Sam, she says you're going to be alright. She keeps telling me not to worry about you, that you are happy where you are, that someone is looking after you.'

Sam heard his mum start to softly sob.

'Mum, I want to come home! I miss you! I want to come back - but I don't know how!'

He stopped as his mother started to speak again.

'Sam, she told me to tell you that she loves you, and she's sorry that she won't get to speak to you again. Your Nan has said you can have that picture of her you always liked and you're to have your granddad's watch. She said to tell you that she knows that you want to come home, but that she knows you've got the chance to be happy where you are, and that you're stopping yourself because you're trying so hard to come home.'

'Mum! I want to come home. How can I be happy here?'

All he heard was static on the radio and then silence.

He put his face in his hands and tried not to cry.

What was the point in being here? What good was he doing here?

He was alone. No one cared about him.

Gene Hunt was a loose gun on the streets of the city, Ray brimmed over with animosity towards him, Chris was so easily led by the two older men, Sam wondered if he was actually taking in anything he was trying to teach him, or whether it was all water off a duck's back.

Really, thought Sam as he surveyed the car he sat in, and the concrete towers surrounding him, the only person I can talk to and who even makes the effort to try and understand me is...

Annie.

The thought ran like an electric shock up his spine and made his head snap up.

Annie cared about him, she talked to him, she listened to him, there were even times when Sam was convinced she was flirting with him.

Maybe his Nana was right. Okay, so her track record wasn't perfect, but she did tell me not to go to that Pink Floyd gig so I didn't - and then the seating I would have been on had collapsed, he remembered.

And she'd been scarily spot on about his degree marks.

And about his mum's lottery win. Alright, so it was only £500, but it meant his mum could go on the holiday with her sister to Spain when she thought she couldn't afford it.

The more Sam thought about it, the more it made sense.

His Nana couldn't bear it when he was sad.

Right, he thought, the very next time I see Annie, I'm going to ask her out. I don't know where, but it won't be down the Railway Arms. I'm going to take her out for a meal, or to a gig, or just for a long walk and a drink somewhere...

He got out of the car and stretched himself out.

'You alright Sam?'

He spun round, flushing slightly in embarresment to be found stretching like an idiot on the pavement in the middle of the city.

'Hi Annie!'

She looked him up and down, and smiled at him.

'Another white knuckle ride with the Guv?'

'Er, yeah, something like that.' Sam stood to one side as a couple more uniformed officers walked past them on the pavement.

'So,' he said, 'Good day on the hard streets of Manchester?'

'Yeah, it's been okay. I must have walked miles today though. And I'm stuck inside tomorrow with Phyllis on the front desk.' Annie pulled a face.

'I thought you liked that?' Sam asked her.

'Well, it's a bit, I dunno, scary at times. I like being out 'n' about, seeing people, helping them. When I'm stuck in the station, all I see is Phyllis fretting and uniform dragging in their arrests. I just feel a bit trapped, y'know?'

'Yeah, I think I do. I hated being stuck behind a desk all day long, endless meetings, policy documents to be read and reviewed, reports having to be written..'

'Where was this?' Annie looked confused.

'Er, Hyde.'

'Oh right. The mythical world of Hyde again.'

An awkward silence fell between them.

Annie shifted her bag on her shoulder and Sam shuffled his feet.

'Sam..' Annie started to say.

'Annie,' Sam said at the same time.

They smiled, embarresed again.

'Go on,' Annie nodded at him.

'No, after you.' Sam held his hand out to her.

'No, it was nothing really. What did you want to say?'

Sam took a deep breath. Okay, he told himself, just remember how you practised this while you where shaving this morning, keep it casual and friendly so if she turns you down, it won't be awkward between you.

'Annie, I wondered, if you'd like, maybe, sometime this week - or weekend if you're busy, whether you'd like to, well, goforadrink.'

The last few words came out in a one word rush of nerves.

'Oh!' Annie was wide eyed in surprise, and she paused for a moment.

'Tyler!'

A shout made both of them start, and look up to the top of the steps, where Gene Hunt stood tapping his watch.

'Guv?'

'Put Cartwright down and get your arse in gear! Now!'

Sam dropped his chin down to his chest as Gene spun on his heel and marched off back to the office.

Annie quietly cleared her throat, and Sam turned back to face her.

'Sorry, I've gotta go,' he said, pointing back over his shoulder.

'Okay,' Annie nodded at him.

'I'll catch you later then?'

'Sorry?'

'I mean, will you be at the Arms later?'

'I might be.' Annie told him in a teasing tone of voice.

'Oh, well I might buy you a drink then.' Sam teased back.

They walked briskly back to the buildings that housed NW Constabulary and Sam held the door open for Annie.

He headed towards the main staircase and she towards front desk to where Phyllis and another Sgt where searching through files.

Sam loped up the stairs, catching sight of Annie through the open plan steps, and sighed at another lost opportunity.

Well, he told himself, I did ask. And we might be meeting up later in the pub.

He told himself that would have to be enough for now.

Back at his desk, he found Chris standing clutching a file and looking nervous.

After proof reading his latest report, Sam congratulated the younger man on his improving typing skills and started to clear his desk for the end of the day.

But his mind was still on whether Annie would, or would not be at the pub at some point that evening.

As he clipped paper together and stacked his 'filing - to be done' tray, his phone rang.

'Tyler, CID...'

'Sam?'

'Annie! Hello! You okay?'

He heard a slight giggle down the line, making him smile too.

'Yeah, I've managed to survive since we last spoke all of - oooh - an hour and a half since!'

'So, what can I do for you then?'

He heard Annie take a deep breath, and it made his nerves jangle. She wasn't going down the pub after all.

'What can you do for me, DI Tyler? Oh, I dunno. Maybe pick me up on Saturday night for a drink?'

'Great!' Sam couldn't contain the pleasure in his voice, ' Where would you like to go?'

'Tell you what,' Annie told him, 'We could discuss it over a drink in the Railway's Arms in about a half hour?'

'I can do that...' Sam said, grinning his face off.

'Right, well, I'll see you there then,' and they hung up.

Sam spun round in his chair, ignoring the creaking of the wood and protest of the ballbearings in the seat.

CID was empty, everyone had gone either home or down the pub already.

'Yes!!' Sam leapt up, punching the air, 'Come on!'

And grabbing his coat he headed for the locker room, a spring in his

step and a very stupid grin on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

And so - the final chapter! I know this has taken me ages to get round to writing, particularly as I had a brief plot thing worked out in last July. However, Life Got In My Way and I've only just got round to writing it all down! Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy and approve of the way I've wrapped this fic up.  
Thanks for all the feedback too :)  
Anyway, enough already - let's get this party wound up!

Chapter 5

Sam sat at the small table tucked in the corner of the Railway Arms nervously sipping a double whisky. It was a bit early to be starting on doubles, but he told himself it was a Friday and hey, it had been a rough week.

He tried to push the real reason aside, that any minute, any second now, Annie Cartwright would open the battered door of the pub and sashay across the beer stained floor towards him.

He pondered on his use of the very archaic word 'sashay' – where the heck had that come from?! Annie didn't make any kind of dramatic statement like that when she entered a room, she just, well, knocked and opened the door, like anyone normal. It was Gene Hunt who burst through doors like a one-man whirlwind, laying waste to reason, calm thought and logical deliberation of a case.

Annie didn't need to explode into a room for Sam to notice her, she caught his attention just by standing very quietly waiting to speak to a colleague, or drinking a cup of tea in the canteen whilst leafing through a magazine. Something about her made Sam's previously unknown and undiscovered natural radar click onto high alert.

And any minute now she was going to come through that door, yep, that one right over there with the out of date football league poster from last season on it, and look around her, see him and give him a smile that would set him quivering inside like a tuning fork factory.

Annie carefully hung up her issue hat and ran her fingers through her hair. She shook out the last tangles and sat down on the bench opposite her locker, leaning back against her civilian coat.

The other WPC's had long gone, shedding their uniforms for their street clothes, untying hair from buns and complicated plaits and leaving their flat heavy issue shoes in the bottom of their respective lockers, sliding feet into more fashionable footwear. Annie had deliberately lingered on front desk, letting Phyllis get away sooner than she had hoped – bingo night held a strange thrall over her older colleague, which amused Annie. She had briefed the sergeant on nights as to who was being kept in, who was off to court first thing in the morning and who had called in sick, again, stretching it out just a bit longer than absolutely necessary just to make sure she would have the locker room to herself. She had been successful, and rocking her head from side to side to try and loosen her neck muscles, she leant forward and started to untie her shoelaces.

A little over ten minutes later, she stepped back from the mirror fastened in her locker, and pressed her lips together to make full use of the end of the tube of her favourite but difficult to find lipstick. She gave herself a nervous half smile and reached into her locker to pick up her handbag, a newly acquired accessory, bought from an recently opened but sure to be short lived shop she had found in the city centre a few weekends ago. A patchwork of what looked like Sari material all stitched together had charmed Annie, all the different textures and colours appealing to her love of colour and the exotic.

She closed her locker, turning the key, then putting the key into her purse, safe from being lost.

'C'mon girl,' she told herself under her breath, 'He'll be waiting for you.'

And she closed her eyes for a second, pulled her nerves together and walked out of the locker room and into the lift.

Sam was engaged in a conversation with a tipsy Chris about United's chances in the new season when he heard the door of the pub open. This wouldn't have been that an accomplishment, had not the pub been full to capacity and Nelson not been playing music so loud the glasses rattled on the tables.

Sam stared at Annie, trying to make his casual wave of 'Here I Am' not resemble an impression of a drowning man.

Annie scanned the closely packed crowd, smiling shyly when she spotted Sam and raised her own hand in return, wiggling her fingers as she did so.

Sam watched as she squeezed past people, mostly off duty police officers and made her way to the bar where he stood.

'Drink?' he mouthed.

Annie nodded.

Sam waved a couple of pound notes at Nelson who shuffled his way along the bar in time to the music.

'Mon brave? The usual for you and the lady?' he shouted over the music.

'Yeah, please. Nelson?'

'Yeah?'

'Turn the music down please – some of us are here for the conversation!'

'What?' Nelson curled a palm around his ear and leaned across the bar to Sam.

'Turn it down!' Sam yelled.

Nelson screwed his face up in confusion, held up his index finger and disappeared behind the bar for a second. Instantly the music went down. A ragged cheer went up from the poker table.

'Sorry mon brave, I couldn't hear what you were saying,' he apologised.

Sam glanced at Annie and they grinned at each other.

'No worries Nelson,' Sam told him as he paid for the drinks, received his change and ushered Annie over to the relative quiet of their chosen table.

'Sorry if I'm a bit late,' Annie apologised.

'You're not late,' Sam assured her, 'I just got off a bit early.'

'So,' Annie started to say, but Chris appeared at the table, worse for wear.

'Boss – the Guv wants you in on his game.' He said, swaying about.

'Blimey Chris, what have you been on?' Annie asked him.

'Whisky! Great drink!' Chris told her and waved his hand about in the poker table party's general direction. 'The Guv bought me one, then Ray, then er, Ron, then wotsit, Tony thingy, then I can't remember!'

'Chris,' Sam said gently as he stood up and tried to look his colleague in the eye, 'I think you've had enough mate.'

'No! No way!' Chris stumbled backwards, spilling his drink on the table, 'I can hold my drink! I'm a copper!'

Sam held his hands up placatingly.

'Woah, easy Chris! I'm just saying, maybe you ought to have a sit down, rest up for a bit. I'll get you a glass of water and you can..'

But it was falling on deaf ears. Chris was leaning over the table, staring Annie straight in the eye and leering.

'You're really pretty Annie – wanna dance?' he said.

'Er, no thanks Chris.' Annie told him, leaning back in her seat.

'Aw c'mon Annie, you know I wouldn't ask you unless I wanted to. C'mon, lets dance!' and he grabbed at her.

Sam stepped forward to try and protect Annie, but she was able to do that herself.

She stood up and pushed Chris' outstretched arms away from her.

'Chris – I said no!' She said, firmly but calmly.

'Yeah, come on Chris, the lady said no,' Sam told him and tried to steer him back to the poker table.

Chris threw Sam's arm off.

'Geroff!' he shouted, but luckily in the din, no one's attention was drawn to the situation, 'I know what's going on!' he said getting angry.

He pointed, finger waving about in a circle, 'You!' he said to Annie, 'You! You won't dance with me coz I'm only a Constable! I'm not important enough to go dancing with!'

'Chris, that's not true,' Annie told him, 'You're my friend and…'

'Oh, I'm you **friend** am I?' Chris said sarcastically, 'What does that make Inspector Sam Tyler then? You're sitting here drinking with him, but you won't dance with me? I'm not good enough for you anymore! Well, I'll show you!'

Chris turned to Sam and said 'You come here, from Hyde, all new and promoted, taking Ray's job – coz that was Ray's job before you turned up – and you start making us do stuff and no one understands why!'

'Chris, you're drunk' Sam told him, calmly, not wanting to start a fight.

'I may be drunk but you? What are you DI Tyler? You walk in, arguing with the Guv, taking Ray's job, and you walk off with the best looking WPC in the nick! How is that fair? Coz it's not!'

'Chris – you're drunk. You've had too much to drink and you don't mean this,' Sam told him.

Chris stood glaring at Sam and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward. Nelson appeared at the same moment and he and Sam caught the younger man together.

'Thanks Nelson.' Sam said gratefully.

'No worries Sam,' Nelson told him in his proper Manchester voice, ''Ere, just help me carry him through to the back room, he can sleep it off.'

Sam nodded and turned to Annie'

'Back in a minute?' he said.

Annie, a little pale, nodded and took a sip of her drink.

Sam and Nelson half carried, half dragged the comatose Chris to the pub's back room.

When Sam returned a few minutes later, Annie was gone.

The minute Sam and Nelson disappeared into the crowd, Annie snatched up her bag and fought her way out of the Railway Arms.

She pulled her jacket more tightly around her and slung her bag over her shoulder, blinking back tears of disappointment and anger.

Bloody Chris! How could he do that? She'd kill Ray Carling if she ever got her hands on him! Now Sam would never ask to take her out the next night, or any other night, because Chris made it sound like she, Annie Caroline Cartwright, only went out with a bloke depending on his rank.

She stamped her foot in the autumn night, and strode down the pavement, around the corner and towards home.

Above her the stars started to shine, and a burst of raucous laughter escaped from the pub as someone opened the door.

Sam raced out of the pub, pulling on his leather jacket and automatically checking his wallet as he scanned the deserted street for Annie.

Where had she gone? The steet was empty, and the noise of the pub echoed around him as the door slowly closed behind his back.

'Bloody hell!' he cursed under his breath, 'Of all nights why did Chris have to get tanked up and argumentative tonight?! Bloody Ray! Damn Gene!'

He stared up at the stars as they shone, every moment a new one seemed to appear and start to glow more brightly at him.

Sam shoved his hands in his pocket and kicked a stone off the pavement clear across the street in annoyance.

Then he remembered last time he'd walked Annie out of the pub and more importantly – which direction she had gone in.

He raced down the pavement and round the corner, just in time to see a figure turn a corner with a flip of her skirt behind her. Without thinking twice, he broke into a run, his jacket flying out behind him.

Annie blinked back her tears and snuffled into a tissue as she walked towards home. She felt utterly dejected and yet what had happened in the pub had not been her fault.

The familiar streets led her feet past closed corner shops, lights in people's living rooms and the usual noises of the evening in the city. A group of lads walked past her on the opposite side of the road talking loudly and debating their footballing allegiances. A couple of teenagers cycled past her joking and laughing.

The streetlights started to flicker on, just a bit too early to make any difference but bright enough to be seen against the oncoming dusk.

Annie shifted her bag onto her other shoulder and tucked an errant curl of hair behind her ear. As she did so she heard the sound of running footsteps. Something made her pick up her pace as they became louder.

'Don't be daft!' she told herself, 'Probably somebody late for drink at the pub, or something.'

But that didn't stop her walking slightly faster.

The running person slowed down and just as Annie turned a corner she heard a voice, gasping and slightly out of breath.

'A-A-Annie?'

She spun round to see Sam standing a little way off, his chest heaving from his exertions and his face red from his impromptu run.

'Sam?'

'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' she lied, hoping her eyes weren't as red as she feared.

Sam walked up to her.

'Only, you left the pub, and I thought something might be wrong?'

'Oh, I er, I just, I just had to leave. Sorry.' Annie dropped her head, feeling sheepish.

'I was only gone a couple of minutes, Nelson was looking after Chris. I was coming right back you know?'

'Sam, I'm sorry, this was a bad idea.'

'Why? We were having a drink, all we were doing was talking!' Even as he spoke Sam knew that, once again, he was skirting round the issue.

'Look, Chris was drunk and although it was the drink doing the talking, what if what he said is what everyone is thinking?' Annie burst out at Sam.

'Annie!,' Sam reached out for her hand, 'You're right. Chris was drunk. And drunk people say stupid things that don't make sense. I don't know what he really thinks, I don't much care to be honest.'

'Well I do!' Annie told him, stepping back, 'I care what people think of me!'

'I know you're friends with Chris…'

'Not if he carries on like that again!'

'And I know how difficult is it for you to be taken seriously by the dinosaurs we work with, who can't imagine a woman could be half as good as they think they are..'

'How? Sam, you're a man,' Annie blushed, but carried on, 'You don't have to put up with the looks, and cat calls and being treated as some kind of police bunnygirl.'

'I do, well, I had a friend,' Sam hesitated, 'where I used to be…'

'Oh, here we go again – Hyde!' Annie retorted.

'Yes in Hyde. And she, she had to work hard too to be recognised as a police officer, but she did. And it took time, but we used to work together, on the same team, investigating and solving cases that would make Gene Hunt's hair drop out if he ever came across them!' Sam stepped up to Annie and took her hands.

This time she let him.

'And you're as good as she was Annie. I trust you; I have total faith in your abilities as a police officer. You see things that the others don't, because you try, and you think. You don't rush to judge or blaze in with the heavy guns, you step back, you work it through, and I respect you for that.'

Annie felt him gently squeeze her hands, and she squeezed back.

Sam felt the pressure from her fingers and smiled at her.

'So, forget what Chris said tonight, please? You're better than that, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?'

'Okay. Thanks.'

'For what?'

'Becoming my own personal cheering team!'

Sam grinned at her and rolled his eyes theatrically at her.

'Don't think I'm getting pom-poms – alright?'

Annie couldn't help but giggle and they started walking again down the street she had originally been heading when he caught her up.

A few minutes later, Annie stopped.

'This is me,' she said, nodding to an end of terrace house.

'Oh, okay.'

'Thanks for walking me home, Sam. Despite what happened in the pub, I had a nice time this evening.'

'Annie?'

'Yeah?'

'Do you still want to go out; maybe not tomorrow night, after all of this, but y'know, maybe next week?'

'I, er, I…'

''Cause there's this gig at the Free Trade Hall next Thursday night and I was wondering if you'd like to go?'

Annie was shocked, but pleased. After all that had happened she really hadn't thought Sam would still want them to go out together again.

Sam stood, wracked with nerves. Would Annie want to go out with him? He really would like to see her tomorrow night, but tonight had been such a near disaster he didn't want to push his luck. He watched as she weighed up his offer.

'Yeah, okay –why not?'

'Great!'

They walked across the quiet road and up to Annie's front door. She reached in her bag for her door key and they stood awkwardly not quite looking at each other.

'Well, er, night then Annie?'

'Yeah, night, Sam.'

Annie opened the door and stepped inside. Sam stood back as she closed the door slowly, smiling shyly and raising a hand in a small wave.

The door clicked shut and Sam slowly turned and walked down the road, hands in pockets, head in the clouds. He was so far away in his mind, that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him and so jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

'Woah!'

Annie stood there, hands behind her back, no coat on, looking nervous.

'Annie?'

In reply, she stepped closer to him and hesitatingly kissed him on just the corner of his mouth.

The touch of her lips on his was soft, and Sam just had time to close his own eyes and lean forward to her, when it was over.

He opened his eyes again to see Annie walking back down the road.

She turned as she got to her front door and grinned broadly back at him.

Sam smiled broadly back and raised his hand in a weak wave.

Annie stepped inside and Sam heard the door click shut.

Unable to wipe the very silly smile off his face, he eventually turned back along the street and walked home.

Out of a window, in a house across the way, a woman in her early 50's watched the whole scene. She turned to her daughter who was visiting with her four-year-old son.

'Mum?' her daughter asked her, 'What are you looking at now?'

'Nothing dear.' The woman turned back, and smiled indulgently at her grandson, 'Now what can I get Sam to eat before you take him home?'


End file.
